


Winter Comes First

by proser132



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: 4 + 1 type thing, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, it's been a while okay listen, literall this is just. me. writing ridiculous amounts of smut for practice, the thin veneer of situational causality that underlies porn, wait let me check that, yeah it's a 4 +1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8731420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proser132/pseuds/proser132
Summary: Four times Jack tried to outlast Bunny, and the one time he succeeded.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am not even sorry.
> 
> Well, I'm sorry for being absent so long, and for continuing to be absent, but not for this.
> 
> This is your holiday deal on smut - five for the price of one. Happy Cyber Week, you capitalist hoons <3

  1. enterlude



Jack had a problem.

This problem was not a garden-variety problem. Well, it  _ was, _ but only in the pun sense, not in the literal sense.

He didn’t have a problem with any of his friends - the other Guardians, while occasionally obtuse, were genuinely decent people, and he tended to enjoy their company on the whole. His problem didn’t involve any of them. Most of them. Three of the four, at least.

He didn’t have a problem with his duties. Being the Guardian of Joy was as easy as breathing in, as easy as making a snowball, as easy as breathing out. He spent his days managing storms, meeting new and awesome people, playing with his believers (and  _ wow _ he had a lot of believers all of a sudden, which was weird as hell but also amazing). Half a century after he joined the lineup, and he had never been happier in his life. He did  _ not _ have a problem with his job, that was for sure.

He also did  _ not _ have a problem with romance. He knew what he looked like, so when somebody who hadn’t heard the news (which were few and far between, it had made a bit of a hullabaloo when it came out) was surprised to hear he was in a committed relationship, he wasn’t offended. Since his face looked like maaaaaybe he was lying about his age when he said he was an adult (which he wasn’t, as he’d turned eighteen the winter before his death, so  _ ha), _ he really had to let that one go.

As a matter of fact, he had whatever the opposite of a problem was with his relationship. It had been two years since they’d finally stopped dancing around it, and he was still over the moon. Maybe always would be.

Bunny had that effect on him, though, even before they were friends. They hadn’t met in ‘68, despite what everyone thought; they’d met about a hundred and twenty years earlier. They’d been cautiously civil, though that was because Jack had no idea what Bunny  _ was _ and Bunny was naturally suspicious of everyone. Old, paranoid grump.

Cautiously civil was better than nothing, which is what Jack got from everyone else, so it was little wonder that every chance meeting they had (once every few decades or so) left Jack floating higher than even the Wind tossed him. Then Bunny had - disappeared. For fifty years. And Jack started to wonder if he’d been civil just because he was polite, or if he even liked Jack at all, or if, if, if, if.

A light snow had fallen the Easter Weekend of 1968, and Jack had been so  _ happy _ when Bunny popped up - only to be chewed out like he’d personally gone and smashed every egg he could find. (In 2011, Jack saw how Bunny reacted to that  _ actually _ happening, and frankly thought he’d gotten the good end of the stick. Bunny furious was so much better than Bunny heartbroken.)

The snow hadn’t even been an inch thick. Sure, it covered most of the Northern Hemisphere, but that wasn’t on Jack, for once - natural weather patterns did what they wanted with or without his permission.

And Jack. Well. He might have gotten a little  _ angry. _

One monster of a blizzard and North America buried in snow later, they were no longer on civil terms. No speaking, no hellos, no waves; only glares and rude gestures and the occasional ice-slick under the rabbit’s paws right when he landed so he’d trip like an idiot in front of the kids. Jack was never passive-aggressive, of course. Never. That would be  _ completely out of character. _

Then. Yeah, 2011 happened, and Jack liked to leave it there. No need to look at  _ that _ one too closely.

So they’d started talking again. And Jack had apologised, and so had Bunny, in his roundabout way, and before Jack knew it twenty years had passed and he’d somehow ended up best friends with Bunny. Jack was so completely wrapped up in him that the day he looked at his long ears and his green eyes and his soft fur, his lean frame and his broad shoulders and his trim waist, and thought to himself  _ god, I’m in love with him,  _ there wasn’t even any panic. Of course Jack loved him. There was no other way it could have gone.

Another two, almost three decades passed of Jack pining and telling himself it was a hopeless cause (and apparently trying Bunny’s self-control and patience to no fucking end) before anything happened.

And by ‘anything,’ Jack meant ‘Bunny fucking snapped and pinned him to the dirt of the Warren and they’d both been so ready to go that the first time they’d made love was barely ten minutes after their relationship actually started.’ It was a thing. It had happened.

Jack just felt lucky his body was what it was, because oh  _ man _ was it something to keep up with a Guardian who had such strong ties to the concept of life and fertility. If Jack  _ hadn’t _ been stuck as a perpetual teenager he would have had a lot more trouble.Though he was starting to be able to control the ageing - some kind of body magic, he wasn’t thinking about it too closely because the  _ whys _ and  _ hows _ made his brain hurt more than anything really should.

And therein lay the problem. Not-problem. Quandary, maybe? Whatever.

The sex was not a problem. The sex was part of the solution. He just had to figure out how to - figure it out.

Bunny was lucky the sex was so good, because otherwise Jack would have given up on this bizarre tangle a year and a half ago.

And he didn’t have a problem with Bunny. Definitely no problem with Bunny.

The problem, really, was with Jack, and that even after two years to get used to regular sex and physical affection and casual intimacy, he  _ still _ couldn’t outlast Bunny.

It was ridiculous. If they hadn’t been so private by nature, Jack could just imagine the jokes that would be flying -  _ Winter comes before Spring, much? _ And it sort of drove him crazy, because Bunny took advantage of it so often, and took so much delight in it, and - ugh, Jack wanted to scream. Well, more than Bunny usually made him do, and not in quite so pleasant a context. Once, just  _ once  _ Jack wanted to make Bunny the quivering, loose-limbed mess he only became after orgasm,  _ before  _ Jack went all limp and stupid with the post-sex afterglow. When he could really enjoy it.

Which meant he needed to figure out how to outlast him. Which made it a contest. Which meant he needed a  _ plan. _

  
  


**1**

 

‘Just like that, me love,’ Bunny murmured softly, hips rolling slowly in by increments.

Jack stifled his gulping cry with a bitten lip, only a whimpering sound managing to escape; his hands clenched open and closed over his head, but one of Bunny’s paws pinned them there with ease, and they had no real freedom of movement. His other paw held Jack’s thigh steady, hooked as it was over Bunny’s hip, and hitched him higher with every roll, driving a little deeper than he would on his own.

It was slow, so slow, so  _ good,  _ and Jack was trying to hold on, he  _ would,  _ he would win this time. God, but Bunny was big - not just inside him, though that was such a good stretch, full up and whole, but in size. He could enter Jack like this and hardly have to reach at all to hold Jack’s wrists; he could lean down and lap at Jack’s nipple, no trouble, no effort.

Jack arched up against the wet heat of Bunny’s tongue on his chest, hips rising, and Bunny took the opportunity given and  _ shoved,  _ his hips slotting into place between Jack’s thighs not with force but with pressure, and Jack saw stars.

‘Aster,’ he moaned, and Bunny stuttered out a bit; he was still Bunny, always would be, but now Jack knew his name, and it was somehow sweeter and dirtier than any petname Jack could have come up with. ‘Aster,  _ please -’ _

Bunny’s thrust was rougher and shakier than his usual control, and Jack felt the first far off glimmer of triumph. ‘Again,’ he breathed into the space between them before Bunny had a chance to withdraw. ‘Again, Aster, god, I -’ he arched his hips up, wrapped his legs around Bunny’s waist, arms straining and hands thrashing with the need to grip something, anything.

Bunny’s breath was coming in fast, his pupils dark and dilated, and Jack thought he might finally -

But his arch drove Bunny deeper, and slid Jack’s dick along the silky fur of his stomach, and he could  _ feel Bunny against his prostate,  _ a constant pressure on the little gland and so good, sparking under his skin like static electricity.

_ Fuck. _

Bunny withdrew as much as Jack’s legs would let him and slammed back in, a cry leaping from Jack’s lips at the slick slide, the spreading, the way the intrusion made Jack just want to cling and have Bunny as deep as he could go, as much a part of Jack as his own heart. Then again. And again.

Once more and the feeling was too much, white-gold-blue swelling up from a place so deep inside that only Bunny had ever touched it and Jack couldn’t hold on, just tossed his head back and shouted as it swept up and took him to the brief shining moment in which his mind was blank and everything was the gold-blue-white.

When he came back to himself, limbs heavy with contentment and what felt like the world’s dumbest grin on his face, Bunny thrust once more into his body and held still, a soft whine rising from his throat that was almost too quiet to hear. He slumped after a few seconds, all his warm soft fur laid along Jack’s skin, his breath hot in Jack’s shoulder.

‘Crikey, Jack,’ he huffed, still short on air. ‘Are ye trying to kill me?’

‘God, no,’ Jack replied, nuzzling his nose into the corner of Bunny’s ear, the only part he could reach. This was the  _ best feeling in the world, _ why had ever bothered to try to put it off -

‘Oh, god damn it,’ Jack blurted out, and no matter how Bunny pestered him he refused to explain.

  
  


**2**

 

This time, Jack had a good plan. Much better than willpower, which in hindsight had been kind of stupid; Jack had, like, zero chance of resisting Bunny, much less when Bunny had the upper hand.

The key, Jack thought to himself, eyes glued to his target, was the element of surprise.

Bunny had just crouched down by the bed of mums near the little cottage/house/den  _ thing _ they shared, in the depths of the Warren; the Warren was Bunny’s home, for certain, but even then it was vast. And there was something to be said for permanent structures, Bunny had remarked one morning, green eyes bright with equally sly and earnest meaning as he glanced at Jack and then away.

Jack had blown him against the wall for that, just to prove another ‘pro’ to be added to the permanent structure list. Which was that walls were  _ great _ things to have around.

Bunny wasn’t tending the mums themselves, only weeding, and so Jack took to the air silently, floating over under his own power rather than calling the Wind. Bunny was oblivious, ears relaxed to either side, his deep voice absentmindedly humming on occasion. Jack never knew the songs Aster hummed, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to hear them sung, but he loved them, long slow slides of sound like the notes were too heavy to flit around. Sometimes, Bunny hummed in his sleep. Jack never slept so well as he did those nights.

God, he loved Bunny. Loved Bunny like - like he was the earth, the safe soil that waited for when Jack let gravity catch him again, growing and alive in a way nothing else could be. Jack still didn’t know the whole story, and from the occasional flashes of grief he’d seen in Bunny’s eyes over the years, he probably didn’t really want to; but sometimes, he wondered just how alive the earth could have been before Bunny began to tend it, all those billions of years ago. They were made of the same stuff, the exact same building blocks.

Bunny had told Jack once that everything - all the atoms, all the particles, all the lights - had been born in the heart of a star, and everything was grown from the same star seeds. Whenever Jack worried they were too different, that maybe people had been right when they said it could never work out, he remembered that. Maybe they looked nothing alike, maybe they were from  _ insanely _ different worlds, but they were still made of the same stars.

Jack never  _ could _ curb the affection when he looked at Bunny, even when he was supposed to be focussing and sneaking up on him, so he gave himself a good thirty seconds to shake off the rapture and refocus.

In that time, Aster stood up and dusted off his paws with a satisfied huff, ears still in their relaxed backward tilt, tail twitching as he turned.

He hadn’t noticed Jack.

Jack felt a slow curl of a smirk stretch his mouth.  _ Perfect. _

He floated gently after Bunny, bobbing in the air and waiting for his opportunity. It arrived soon enough, when Bunny began to pick his way down the rolling slope that led to the wide egg fields, mostly dropping to all fours for ease of movement. Still too early in the year to even start budding; Jack rolled his eyes. Bunny was such a worrier.

He rose a little bit, judged the angle and speed, then cut off his flight.

Down he dropped, all the precision of a homing missile, and landed square between Bunny’s shoulder blades with a cackle.

With a great honk from Bunny (really, one of Jack’s favourite noises), they went down. Tumbling, rolling, Bunny tucking in to not break a limb and Jack tucking around him as best as his smaller size really let him, until they landed in a pile at the bottom of the slope, Bunny splayed on his stomach beneath Jack and ears cocked forward into the dirt with irritation.

‘Jack, ye dero, what are ye -’ he began to bellow, but Jack was already acting on his plan, nudging Bunny’s legs apart with his knees and nuzzling into the dip between Bunny’s shoulders, winding his arms around the trim waist and digging his fingers into the fur at the sharp cut of hip. ‘Jack,’ Bunny said, a bit quieter but significantly more confused, ‘What are ye  _ doing? _ Ye could have cracked both our -’

Bunny interrupted himself with a sharp breath when the fingers of one of Jack’s hands crept further down, stroking at the soft folds of his well-hidden sheath. Bunny’s hips jerked against the touch, his paws spasming and clutching at the grass.

‘Are ye  _ serious?’ _ Bunny demanded, but his voice was a little hoarse, his hips jerking again and the emerging, already slick head of his cock against Jack’s fingertips said a lot more than his words could.

‘Yep,’ Jack replied, and kissed the line of Bunny’s shoulder blade, nipping gently with his teeth. Bunny’s shoulders rolled, and Jack watched the ripple of muscle with satisfaction; something that gorgeous deserved his attention. Then he thought about it, what he’d just done, and felt a little bad. ‘Sorry, bad timing? I can let you just -’

‘Don’t ye dare,’ Bunny growled, and the movement of his hips into the pressure of Jack’s hand was intentional this time.

Jack hid his grin in the smooth fur of Bunny’s back; sometimes, it was nice to be reminded that Bunny wanted Jack as badly as Jack wanted  _ him. _ Some of that was the higher sex drive, of course, but that only counted for, like, ten percent of the sex they had, really. The rest of it was all them.

Bunny groaned a little as Jack wiggled his fingers enough to be able to wrap them around the slight curve of his length. It had taken a couple of times to get used to - no head on him, and more than once Jack’s hand had slipped off entirely - but Jack liked to think he had everything  _ well in hand _ now.

He laughed softly into Bunny’s fur, and Bunny hummed back, rolling into Jack’s touch and back into Jack’s hips. The last bit was more a result of the first than any intentional movement, but Jack’s dick, which had been at roughly 115% for the past ten minutes, didn’t mind in the slightest.

‘Here,’ Bunny said, voice strained as he got his front paws under him. ‘Let me just turn -’

‘Nah,’ Jack interrupted, and let go of Bunny’s dick which earned him a soft groan of disappointment. Instead, his hand returned to Bunny’s hips, and with a sense of - not confidence, not control, but somewhere in between, something he was kind of unfamiliar with - he pulled them up, setting the curve of Bunny’s backside flat along Jack’s front, his tail pinned between him and Jack’s dick. As if it was an automatic response, Bunny’s legs shuffled forward, getting his knees beneath him as well, balanced on his toes; the line of his spine had gone stiff, though, and Jack nuzzled him once more, nose buried between his shoulder blades, as high as he could reach. ‘I’m good right here,’ he said, and his hand stole forward again, wrapped around the heat and faint slickness of Bunny’s cock.

Bunny moaned and rocked forward and back, thrusting into the tight circle of Jack’s hand before rubbing against Jack’s hips. Again, not an intentional movement, but the motion and the pressure both made Jack mimic it, rubbing himself against Bunny’s ass.

This was - new, in a number of ways, Jack realised with a bit of surprise. From the beginning, Aster had been… well, not in control, there was nothing but  _ very enthusiastic _ consent from Jack and an equal input towards the end goal of orgasming until they couldn’t breathe. But he  _ had _ been in the lead, which was fair, considering the extent of Jack’s prior sexual experience had been limited to when he’d been alive, and hadn’t been very extensive in the first place.

It was good, Jack thought as he bit his lip and thrust forward, propelling Bunny’s hips forward in turn, sliding his thumb along the the top of Bunny’s cock and rubbing firmly at the tip when he backed up.  _ Really _ good, actually. He’d go so far as to say it was fantastic, with the way Bunny was rumbling from the centre of his chest and breathing hard as Jack tightened and loosened his hold.

There was a surprise movement at the front of Jack’s pants, and he snapped his hips forward before he’d meant to at the surprise stimulation; he spared a glance down, curious, as Bunny moaned long and loud at his motion.

Then he swallowed.

Bunny’s tail - soft and fluffy, twitching and fun to tweak to get his attention - had lifted, wriggling free from where it had pinned. All of a sudden, Jack’s mind was filled with one image:

Them, just like this, only in their nestbed. He wasn’t clothed and Bunny was clutching at the pillows, breath uneven, and his tail was lifted, just like that, and Jack was entering  _ him _ for once, and, and -

Jack cried out, the sheer  _ lust  _ that the image produced tipping him over the edge and tightening his grip on Bunny’s cock.

He slumped down against Bunny’s back, gasping for air, but held his grip firm; Bunny thrust forward a few more times before groaning almost loud enough to echo and shuddering all over.

Bunny collapsed down, Jack’s weight atop him, and after a few minutes of breathing harshly, wriggled around without dislodging him, until Jack was splayed out atop him and he could rest his arms around Jack’s waist. ‘I have no idea how ye do it,’ Bunny said, part exasperated and part affectionate, ‘but ye always know when I need a bit of stress relief.’ He nuzzled his chin down on Jack’s hair, marking him with his scent and humming again beneath Jack’s chest. ‘Thank ye, me love.’

Jack nodded, spent, but was both too annoyed at himself (damn it, he’d done it  _ again) _ and too wrapped up in thought to manage words.

He had a lot to think about, after all.

  
  


**3**

 

Unfortunately, he just didn’t have a lot of time to think about it.

Spirits, as a general rule, didn’t celebrate the new year after Christmas; surprisingly, they didn’t celebrate it at Easter, either. Or the winter solstice, or the spring equinox, or any of those.

Jack still wasn’t sure why they’d picked the halfway point between the start of fall and the start of winter (something about thin veils or whatever), but it did make for one hell of a party. It had gotten picked up by a few other cultures in the world, then really swung up in terms of human participation when the Christians had tried to assimilate some of the pagan practices, and by now it was all about candy and dressing up in costumes. Both things Jack could get behind, really.

Plus, it totally gave him an opportunity to dress up and torture Bunny with it, which was always fun. Bunny was a big fat cheater who shapechanged every year instead of wearing a costume, of course, so he was banned from the contest, but he was usually creative enough that it was totally worth it. One year he’d gone as Nero, the mad Roman emperor, and by all accounts from the Roman spirits who went to Eve’s party, it was a picture perfect copy. That was the year he’d learned that Bunny had learned how to play basically every instrument ever at one point out of boredom and was actually pretty good at the violin. Nero’d been about thirty miles away at the time of Rome’s burning, Bunny had admitted, shrugging his spindly human shoulders, tanned skin tight over the collarbones, but the image was just too good to pass up.

He’d been pretty secretive about this year’s shape, which was the precise way to get Jack’s curiosity up, and he  _ knew  _ it, the asshole. In retaliation, Jack had kept his secret, too, but Bunny had actual patience; it kind of made the whole thing moot.

But tonight was the night, and Jack was finished before Bunny  _ (like usual, _ he thought a little sourly), and so he waited outside the door of their cottage-thing, fiddling with his staff.

He wouldn’t be winning any contests like this, he knew, but that wasn’t the point of his costume any year and they both knew it. Bunny always tried to go as something impressive - two years ago he’d gone as North, confusing everyone but Jack and North himself, who both thought it was hilarious - and last year he’d gone as Eleanor of Aquitane, which was both really cool and weirdly unnerving. Bunny as a woman was still Bunny, but also… different? Jack couldn’t put his finger on it, and while he didn’t  _ dislike _ it at all, it was a bit of a relief when Bunny had returned to his own shape. When he’d told Bunny it was like he knew all of Jack’s secrets, Bunny had just said ‘Women’s intuition,’ and then laughed until Tooth whapped him in the back of the head with her wing and a grin of her own.

Jack’s approach to costumes was entirely to torture Bunny.

Prior to their relationship, he’d dressed up in hopes that maybe, eventually, he’d be attractive enough to catch Bunny’s eye - he hadn’t _known_ he was torturing Bunny at the time. Bunny had been waiting for Jack to say something, certain he could be patient until Jack was ready, but apparently that patience and willpower was tested _literally_ _all of the time._ Jack always mentally awarded Bunny points that he’d lasted twenty-eight years, because he knew sure as shit that if it had been reversed, Jack wouldn’t have lasted a week.

Now, though, armed with the knowledge that Bunny had basically been forced to shift away his dick every Halloween or pin Jack to the wall, Halloween was the third best day of the year. The first frost came in first, duh, and the day after Easter was second (Bunny had so much adrenaline left over after Easter that it all had to go  _ somewhere. _ Jack was very, very happy to be that somewhere), but Halloween was pretty great.

Last year Jack had managed to finagle a costume idea that let him go shirtless. It had been worth the stares at the party to see Bunny literally walk into one of the support trees of Eve’s house-forest when Jack had stretched his arms over his head.

Bunny’d tackled him to the ground as soon as they dropped into one of the tunnels to go home. It had been  _ awesome. _

This year, Jack was going as a winter night. Not his most creative choice, subject wise, but he’d gone all out in the details. He was going to get Bunny off first tonight, and he was going to  _ win,  _ and Bunny was going to win too, because orgasms were always a victory of some kind in Jack’s opinion.

He’d enlisted the help of the yetis in getting it sewn and ready, and they’d done a great job - Phil had been intensely disapproving of how… provocative it looked, once Jack added the final touches, but hey. Jack had a plan, and just because Phil had basically adopted him or whatever the yeti equivalent was didn’t make him his  _ actual _ dad. Plus, Jack was technically older than him. It was actually kind of weird, if Jack thought about it too closely, but that was why he didn’t think about it too closely.

The shirt was closer to a vest, sleeveless and made of a fairly sturdy, stiff material Jack didn’t know the name of; it was a blue so dark it was almost indigo, and studded with snow crystals Jack had scattered about like stars. The collar was high, and not exactly tight around his throat, but very well fitted, and it didn’t close, instead scooping down to a V point that was  _ just _ this side of decent. Jack had seriously considered short shorts, but had decided that would be going too far (he wanted to look so good Bunny was stunned, not like a gigolo.) Instead, black leggings that ended just above his ankles clung to him like a second skin, and thin vines of frost wound their way up, curling over his thighs and across his ass.

Frost lined his skin, too, in star patterns and flowers etched up his arms, on his cheeks, and his forehead. They were invisible until the light hit them, at which point they shimmered like sunlight on snow. Jack couldn’t wait until Bunny caught sight of the aster he’d created in the middle of his brow.

The crowning glory (ha) was a circlet that rested at a jaunty angle on Jack’s head, frozen in place so it wouldn’t move, and set with little quartz crystals at precise intervals. He’d even gotten Jaime’s daughter to lend him some dark blue eyeliner. He had no idea how anyone stabbed themselves in the eye on a regular basis, but he knew it looked good. Bunny was fucking  _ in for it this year. _

‘Are you almost done, Cottontail?’ Jack called into the cottage-nest, not turning around, wanting to preserve the surprise. ‘You know Eve will kick your ass if you’re late again.’

‘That was one year, four decades ago,’ Bunny grumbled back, his voice normal sounding; Jack wondered what shape he’d taken, that his voice hadn’t changed. ‘Ye’d think she’d get over it already.’

‘You holiday spirits are so sensitive, though,’ Jack pointed out, grinning at the mums across the way.

‘Oi!’

‘It’s true,’ Jack sang, just to be annoying.

‘Like ye don’t pout if the winter’s too warm to have a blizzard south of the 45th,’ Bunny replied dryly, and it irritated Jack to no end that he was right.

‘Come on, let’s go already,’ Jack said, and heard footsteps approaching. Grinning to himself  _ (here we go, eat your heart out Bun-bun), _ he turned to look back through the door, and froze in place. A little literally, from the faint sound of spreading ice down by his toes.

Bunny was staring at him, ears forward and eyes wide, but Jack couldn’t find it in himself to be smug when Bunny  _ looked like that. _

He hadn’t changed his shape at all this year, still tall, still furred, still  _ Bunny; _ what had changed was that he, for whatever reason, was clothed. A long, grass green robe stretched obscenely over his broad shoulders, the sleeves just long enough to brush lovingly over the curve where thumb met wrist; the robe was long enough to brush the ground when Bunny was standing at full height, and it was drawn in neatly at his waist by a sash of brilliant violet. There was some kind of pinafore-apron-thing just under that in a red colour that somehow  _ didn’t _ look horrible with the green, and his usual egg-shaped satchels were pinned atop it.

Eggs were all over the clothing, Jack realised, the brass buttons, the gilt embroidery, even the shape of the red cloth. He swallowed. It should have looked ridiculous.

It really, really didn’t.

‘We’re not going this year,’ Bunny rumbled, and Jack’s eyes snapped up to his, startled; he took one step forward, and for a split second Jack seriously considered staying, letting Aster do whatever his darkening eyes promised, but unfortunately for his and Jack’s libidos both, Jack  _ really wanted to win. _

‘Ah ah ah,’ Jack said, and jumped nimbly back, into the air. ‘Nuh-uh, Aster, no way. Eve will skin us and use us for new scarecrows.’

‘I reckon it’s worth it,’ Bunny replied, still stalking forward.

‘Nope,’ Jack said, and floated higher, just out of Bunny’s reach. ‘I like you not-skinned. You should definitely remain that way.’

‘Jack,’ Bunny growled, ‘get  _ down  _ here.’

‘No way, Jose.’

Bunny crouched, just a bit, and Jack shot up fifty feet in the air, at least five feet farther than Bunny’s highest leap. ‘Aster,  _ no,’ _ he called down. ‘One amazing fuck is not worth  _ the rest of our lives’ worth.’ _

Bunny paused, and then his ears ticked down - not in embarrassment, but the soft droop he got whenever Jack accidentally said something romantic. ‘Aye, ye’re not wrong,’ he called up, and his voice was too fond for Jack to resist. Jack floated down, at least reasonably confident that dressed as he was Bunny would have a slightly harder time catching him, and grinned at Bunny.

‘Later, though,’ Bunny said, smiling back in a way that was much too innocent for the words that left his mouth next, ‘I’ll have ye screaming me name, love.’

Jack swallowed and nodded; Bunny always kept his promises, after all.

And Bunny did keep his promise - he didn’t touch Jack once, not in the tunnels, not in the forest, not even when they reached the party itself. Which was almost worse, so far as Jack was concerned; he could have handled Bunny’s wandering hands, if only by dragging him off to a secluded space, and in Eve’s massive forest-home there was always a secluded space. He’d feel worse about how much he wanted to take advantage of that if he didn’t know for a  _ fact _ that he wasn’t the only one considering it. And definitely wouldn’t be the only one doing it. Eve’s parties got a little crazy, and so long as everyone was having fun Eve was nothing but encouraging.

But instead, Bunny stayed across the hall where the bulk of the party was, mingling with spirits he knew, laughing, looking like he was having a great time. The only hint that he wasn’t completely focussed on whatever conversation he was having at the time was the way his eyes followed Jack, no matter where he went.

Jack tried to ignore it. He really did. He said hi to Tooth, who was dressed as a phoenix this year, and Sandy, who never bothered to dress up but no one ever minded. North was, as always, most easily found at the dessert table, where he was chatting with the hostess herself; they were talking candy recipes, Jack realised when he floated over to say hello, and Eve smiled at him, moss-green stone teeth only a little strange in her wide grin. Her eyes flickered orange and yellow like a candle hid in her skull, and she eyed him slyly, pushing her long willow-branch hair over her shoulder.

‘Thank you for making it,’ she said in her light Scottish accent. ‘I’m surprised you got out of the house at all, looking like that.’

Jack flushed. ‘It was kind of the point,’ he admitted, ducking his head; across the room he could feel Bunny’s eyes skating over his shoulders, down his arms. ‘Not to miss your party, but to - well.’

North rolled his eyes good-naturedly. ‘As if you need try,’ he said, and clapped a hand to Jack’s shoulder. ‘Bunny is like moth to fire. He barely takes eyes off you on normal day, you do not need to taunt to keep his attention.’

‘Also not the point,’ Jack said, grinning now even though the flush had gotten darker. ‘It’s  _ fun _ to break his brain.’

Both Eve and North laughed, but then Eve’s laughter became a bit of a scandalised giggle. ‘Well, he’s clearly been affected,’ she said, and smirked. ‘He’s headed over now.’

Jack’s blood burned a little - god, maybe they  _ would _ be able to make use of one of the nooks and alcoves that hid amongst the tightly woven trees - but he shook his head. No, he was going to  _ win.  _ ‘In which case,’ he said to the two of them, ‘gotta jet.’

‘Oh?’ North asked, looking confused now.

Jack laughed. ‘It’s no fun if I give in, now is it?’

North groaned, and Eve laughed again. ‘When you at last admitted your feelings and you began your partnership,’ he said, long-suffering, ‘I did not think to become so well-acquainted with details of friends’, er, love lives. In future, do not use me as distraction in your sex games.’

‘Not quite what’s happening,’ Jack said, and made a face. ‘Duly noted, though. Later!’

He took off, just fast enough to still be considered casual, and grinned to himself. Fine, Bunny didn’t want to touch? Jack wouldn’t let him.

Another hour passed like this, Jack flitting his way through the massive party (he was pretty sure there had to be over a thousand people here) and Bunny chasing after him. It was the politest, most civil hunt Jack had ever been the quarry of; he intentionally moved past people he knew were acquaintances of Bunny’s, just to slow him down, and hid himself behind trees and doubled back, until at last he had managed to lose him in the crowd.

The problem was, the chase was having an  _ effect _ on him. The secrecy, the danger of being caught out, flushed his cheeks and made his blood run warmer than it normally did. And that led to other problems. Down Under problems (ha).

And in these leggings, it was quickly going to become obvious to just about anybody who looked at him what problem that was. Jack might have liked the idea of the danger of being caught, but he was willing to bet the actual  _ reality _ of being caught was going to be a whole lot more mortifying than he wanted to deal with.

He skirted behind a massive oak and down one of the twisting, narrow corridors formed of thin saplings; he had been to Eve’s house-forest often enough that he actually knew his way around the place, and that meant that he knew the best place where even Eve might not think to look for him.

He opened the sixth door he passed, ducked inside the room, and closed the door behind him with a near-silent sigh of relief.

All around him were tall, curving bookshelves and tables; towards the back of the room were aisles, behind which Jack knew were more tables, much smaller, meant for two at most. Eve was more of a bookworm than anybody who wasn’t Aster, in Jack’s experience, and had entire libraries devoted to single subjects; this was the Philosophy library, and so rarely used by even Eve that the chances of Jack being caught were next to nil. And even if he was caught, only one person would be the one catching him, and that might actually work to his advantage.

It didn’t count, he reasoned to himself as he made his way to the back of the room, just in case, to a corner alcove that was hidden from direct line of sight to the door. If anything, it’d probably help him out later; if he was still technically recovering, he’d last longer than Bunny, especially if Bunny had been forced to wait and chase him all evening. It was just strategically, tactically intelligent, he thought firmly, made sure one last time he was completely and utterly alone save for the faint sound of the party music, and shimmied his leggings halfway down his thighs with a sigh of relief.

God, but Bunny looked good; he’d have to ask later what the point of this year’s costume was, but in the meantime he was just going to enjoy it. He took hold of himself and sighed softly, his breath stuttering as he slid his his hand up. He let go, licked his palm, returned to his grip.

The way the robes pulled across Bunny’s chest and shoulders was ridiculous, Jack thought as he stroked upward, head tilting back with a soft thump against the bookshelf behind him, the circlet clinking where it met the wood. Jack loved Bunny naked, and definitely appreciated that Bunny was basically naked  _ all the time. _ But in the robes, the muscles were more apparent, the ripple and shift of movement normally disguised by the thick ruff of fur on blatant display. He looked powerful, stately; he looked like someone in charge, someone untouchable.

And the  _ sash,  _ Jack thought helplessly, another stroke drawing a soft groan from his throat. The rich purple drawing attention to Bunny’s waist, long and slim. He wasn’t human, and god did the robes make that clear, but the silhouette he presented, the narrow waist and broad shoulders, strong neck above his high collar, was so much more attractive than Jack could remember anyone else ever being. That was probably just him, though. He didn’t care. Bunny’s waist was longer than a human’s ever could be, his legs bent even at their fullest extent, his arms stretching out farther than the human ratio allowed for, and yet it was perfect. He was  _ perfect,  _ the way he was built, his bright eyes and tall ears and  _ nobility. _

Which is why Jack wanted to mess it up so badly.

He couldn’t help it, and this time the noise he made was closer to a whimper as he tightened his grip just right. It was just the way  _ he _ was built, all trouble and broken lines, wildness and wilderness married in a human shape. And he wanted to make Bunny that way. Not all the time - he loved Bunny’s clean lines and organic yet ordered sprawl, the Fibonacci array and golden ratio of precise growth. And he himself had his own order - the six-sided molecule of ice was just as precisely constructed, just as immutable. But just as he was like Bunny, Bunny was like him. He too had the unpredictability, the wildness hiding just beneath his pelt and copper-sulfate-flame eyes. It just took Jack to bring it out, like Bunny brought out the order in him.

It was one of Jack’s greatest pleasures in life (one amongst many, he thought with a near-silent gasp, thumbing along the ridge of his cock’s head where it met the shaft). Messing Bunny up, making him accommodate and take part in that unpredictability. And nothing would make Jack happier right now than to mess up all the stateliness and neat impeccability of Bunny’s costume.

It wouldn’t even be necessary to do all that much. It would be better that way, even, more disordered, more haphazard. Jack would undo the sash, just enough to hang loosely on Bunny’s hips; just one button undone, so a flap of the robes would flop over. He’d leave the high collar alone, because he liked the way it framed Bunny’s jaw. The apron and satchels would be in a pile on the floor.

Maybe it would be in here, even, the table in front of Jack at just the right height. He could picture it, so clear it was as if Bunny was in front of him, Bunny pressed up against the edge, paws gripping as if he was only barely supporting his weight, mouth parted and ears cocked forward, the front of his robes all rumpled and tented over his groin.

Then he’d turn, because Jack had asked him to, and they’d ruck up the back of the robes, and Bunny’s tail would lift like it had when Jack had tackled him to the ground. He’d swear under his breath, trying to keep quiet as Jack slid his fingers inside, one then two then -

Jack’s breath was coming in gulps, muffled by his free hand as his hips did the work; his other hand he held mostly still, save for the bit of a movement back on every thrust forward. In his mind, it was Aster rocking back, knuckles stark even under the fur on the far side of the table, ears twitching in time with his tail, and with a cry he would come, still fucking back on Jack’s dick -

Jack came with a soft cry of his own, hips coming to an arching standstill.

He panted in the quiet room for a minute more, before huffing out a sigh. Well, that had been, uh. More than he’d been expecting.

He’d have to talk to Bunny soon, he knew he did; when they’d started this thing, they’d promised to talk to each other. They’d both known that a lot of why it had taken twenty years for them to become friends, and almost thirty more for them to become anything else, was communication. Bunny had wanted Jack to say something first, but Jack hadn’t known that; Bunny hadn’t known that Jack didn’t think Bunny liked him that way at all. If one of them had just said something, they could have been celebrating their twenty-ninth anniversary next year, not their third. So they’d promised, big or small, to talk to one another when they were ready.

And it wasn’t that Jack disliked their sex life. On the contrary, he was kind of perpetually ecstatic about their sex life. It was more that he wanted to  _ add _ to it, and was just uncertain how up for that Bunny would be, given that in two years he’d never made a move in that direction.

But it was Bunny. Jack knew that even if Bunny didn’t want to do that, didn’t want Jack to make love to him the way he made love to Jack, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, and certainly not their relationship. That didn’t make Jack any less uncertain, though.

‘A week,’ he said aloud; with a quick burst of freezing magic, he froze and dried his mess and dispersed it into dust. He snickered a bit when he thought of poor Eve when she dusted this room; served her right for that time North found her and that Nahua goddess - or was she Mayan? Fuck, Jack couldn’t remember - in the middle of their own private time in one of the really-roomy broom closets in the Workshop during the New Year’s party. For getting caught, anyway. Bunny and Jack had never been caught, at least, so she really needed to get better at sneaking around. Or being quiet.

Still snickering, he set himself to rights and left the room, sneaking back into the party.

He’d done a good job of losing Bunny, because it took another 45 minutes for him to catch sight of Bunny again, and an hour after  _ that _ before Bunny managed to corner him. Jack felt pretty good about it, actually, the way Bunny loomed over him, his oncoming victory so, so sweet.

‘You ready to go home, Cottontail?’ Jack asked, bright tone perfectly designed to hit all of Bunny’s buttons. At least, all of the not-so-good ones; between the two of them, annoyance was really only a step or two away from lust. More than once, Jack had wondered if that was normal, but he always dismissed the thought in the end. One, he was an immortal corpse and Bunny was an alien shaped like a giant bipedal rabbit - they were never going to be  _ normal. _ And two, he really didn’t care if it was normal, because it worked and that was all that mattered.

‘I’ve been ready since we  _ got _ here, ye brat,’ Bunny muttered, and Jack was delighted with how  _ frustrated _ he sounded. This was going to be even easier than he thought.

‘Well, you’re the one with the keys,’ Jack said, and Bunny rolled his eyes.

‘Ye know perfectly well that ye’re keyed into the wards and can tap a tunnel open yerself,’ he grumbled, and Jack fluttered his eyes innocently upward, knowing the lashes looked long and dark against the eyeliner. Bunny’s breath hitched, and oh  _ god _ yeah, this was going to be great. ‘Alright, fine, ye blighter,’ Bunny snapped, and tapped, and down they dropped.

‘Eve’s gonna kill us for leaving without saying goodbye,’ Jack said conversationally, and Bunny’s eyes rolled yet again. ‘You’re going to strain your eyes, you keep that up -’

‘Hush and get moving,’ Bunny huffed, ‘Swear ye could talk the ears off a cockie.’

‘Why?’ Jack said, and with a wisp of magic took to the air. ‘I think -’ and here he dropped into Bunny’s space, slinging his arms around Bunny’s neck, ‘I like where we are.’

He laid a kiss on Bunny’s mouth, which was returned immediately, with interest; but after a moment, Jack frowned and pulled away. Bunny was into it (his tongue in Jack’s mouth said as much), but it lacked the desperate quality Jack had been expecting after an evening of torture.

‘Hey,’ he asked, and kissed Bunny’s cheek. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Er,’ Bunny coughed, and looked away, ears flat. ‘I might have. Already, er…’

Jack held still, and stared down at himself. Then he sighed, resigned and a little amused, and looked back up. ‘Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?’

‘Oi!’ Bunny protested, ‘ye ran off first, and don’t think I don’t know what ye were doing, even if I couldn’t find ye -’

‘I know,’ Jack sighed. Again. Even when they weren’t  _ touching  _ each other, he came first. It was starting to get old. ‘It’s fine, Cottontail, don’t worry about it,’ he said, and kissed Bunny’s cheek again when he began to frown, then his nose, then his mouth. By the time he’d finished, Bunny’s eyes had softened and his ears were in that same droop they’d been in at the beginning of the night. ‘Let’s head home. Maybe by the time we’re there…’

‘It’ll be about halfway,’ Bunny replied, confident again. ‘Crikey, Jack, by the seven solar winds I  _ swear _ ye’ve been trying to make me cark it from blood loss.’

‘The blood doesn’t actually leave you,’ Jack pointed out, but he was grinning and a little red himself. Bunny could be such a flatterer sometimes; Jack wouldn’t have known it all those years past, but he really should have suspected it. Bunny might not be great at the whole  _ talking to people _ thing, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good at  _ words. _

‘The way ye make me head light, it might as well have,’ Bunny retorted, proving Jack right, and really, Jack couldn’t  _ not _ kiss him for that.

Twenty minutes later they actually managed to start making their way home, much more rumpled and smug (or, at least, Bunny was. Jack had come first,  _ again. _ He’d never been so frustrated by an orgasm in his  _ life.) _

  
  


**4**

 

Jack tapped his way into the tunnels with a weary fist, and sank down slowly until his feet met dirt. It wasn’t so much that he was tired (he’d gotten plenty of sleep when Tooth forced him to, after she’d seen him nearly fall out of the air), but he was - drained. It had been a  _ long _ six weeks, and definitely not what he’d had in mind when he’d agreed to help North out.

Not that the last two weeks had anything to do with North, of course, but no one could be blamed for that.

It had started out as such a nice, simple plan, Jack lamented in the safety of his skull, beginning to walk towards the Warren with heavy steps (flight felt a little difficult at the moment.) It would have  _ worked, _ too, if it had just  _ stayed  _ according to plan. Which he guessed was technically his first mistake. When had a plan ever gone well in his life? Never, that was when.

So about a week after Halloween, right, while Jack was trying to figure out how to say to Bunny  _ so I kind of want to fuck you into the bed until we break it, is that something we can do or nah?, _ Nick had asked him to swing by the Workshop. He had some project or other he was going to need some help with, he’d said. Then told Jack to pack for about a month’s trip.

First, Jack had laughed himself sick over the idea of packing. Honestly, who did Nick think he was? Up until he’d accepted the whole Guardian title, he’d owned precisely two things: the clothes on his back (well, he supposed that was a few things, but whatever) and the staff in his hand. Like packing was even a thing he bothered to think about.

Then Jack’s brilliant plan had fallen into his lap, and he’d agreed, telling Nick he’d meet him at the Workshop in an hour or two. Then he’d gone to tell Bunny he’d be away, had the awesome and a touch bittersweet pleasure of farewell sex (what, did Bunny think he was going to forget him in a month? What a dork), and set off for the Pole.

It really had been a great plan, Jack mourned as he picked his way over a set of boulders that he’d never realised were there (given that he spent all of his time flying, though, that was hardly a surprise.) He’d figured a month away from Bunny would give him some time to cool off, to think about something other than how much he really,  _ really _ wanted Bunny on his dick. The time away would let him figure out what he wanted to say, and then when he got home, the welcome-home sex would involve Bunny bent over and that, honestly, was the best possible thing Jack could imagine at the time.

Turned out, Nick had been working with what he called ‘pocket universes’, little universes inside this one; from what Jack could glean, he’d picked up the theory ages ago from human scientists. While they were still about a century away, give or take a decade, from being able to open a way through purely with technology, he’d found a way to do it with magic and technology together.

Jack was certain Bunny would have loved to debate it with Nick until the sun went out, but Jack wasn’t Bunny, and physics was only his thing insomuch as it was necessary to fly with any skill. He knew he could talk someone’s ears off about meteorology, and once or twice over the years he’d gotten into giant debates with Bunny over the finer points of biology - Bunny was still sore that Jack had been right and that the stags and elk of Eurasia were in fact so closely related to North American moose that they were frankly the same species - but physics? Pocket universes? Not his bowl of rice, to borrow a phrase from Bunny.

(And since apparently Bunny found it really hot that Jack could knowledgeably kick someone’s ass in a scientific debate at all, Jack didn’t feel it was necessary to try and become an expert in a field he wasn’t enthused about when he could just, you know, start talking about the atmospheric conditions necessary for sprites to form and watch Bunny’s eyes glaze over that way.)

So off Jack had gone, in an exploratory mission with Nick into a ‘Very small! Very safe!’ pocket universe.

It was neither small, nor safe. Jack blamed Nick, who blamed his readouts and thought they’d be entering a different one entirely, and both of them swore never to tell Bunny what had happened or they’d be laughed at for the rest of their natural lives. Jack had a feeling he was going to shudder whenever he saw a hippopotamus from now on, though. He knew now how awful their teeth could be.

Once Jack had gotten out of the stupid pocket universe, and gotten Nick to promise that  _ never again under any circumstances would he ask Jack to enter another one, _ he’d intended to head straight home and get this over with. He’d put it off long enough, and that wasn’t fair to Bunny or himself.

Which was when, of course, the Wind had come screeching in with bad news.

In the Swiss Alps, there was a group of barbegazi who had been engaging in their favourite sport, avalanche surfing (honestly, the little guys were some of the biggest adrenaline junkies, Jack loved them.) The avalanche had gotten too big for them, and though most of them had made it out okay, a group of little ones had gotten trapped in a cave, and been buried under the ice and rock.

Jack’s heart had stopped for a minute, but the Wind had quickly assured him in her wordless way that they were alive, even well-supplied, with a small fissure to the outside world giving them air; but there was no way out. The fissure itself was a curse in disguise - the barbegazi on the outside had looked at it and declared that if they tried to widen it, the whole cave system would collapse before they could get their children out.

Which really, really meant Jack needed to be there - as winter’s powerhouse, they’d need the help.

It wasn’t even a thought in Jack’s head to say no - whether they were barbegazi children or not, they were still children, and he was already flying in that direction when the Wind first said ‘avalanche’. 

It was painstaking, hellish work. He’d enlisted the help of some dwarves that owed him a favour, and between himself and their knowledge of stone, they’d finally gotten them out; but it had taken two weeks, from end to end. Aster hadn’t been able to come - an emergency with the egg plants, his message had said, which had apparently paled Jack’s skin out so much that the barbegazi thought he was turning into snow - but that had been resolved safely two days past, and the relief had made Jack dizzy.

Which is what he’d tried to tell Tooth, but she wouldn’t listen, and made him sleep it off.

Which is how Jack came to be here, stumbling home six weeks after he’d left and feeling like he’d been gone two years.

This section of the tunnels was wide and grassy, spots of sunlight filtering down, and Jack knew he was less than a minute away from home had he been flying, and about fifteen minutes away walking. So long as he got home, he didn’t care how long it took.

‘Jack!’

Weary though he was, Jack snapped his head up at his name, heart lifting and lodging in his throat.

‘Aster,’ he breathed, and tossed his staff aside, and held out his arms; there was no point in stepping forward, since the grey blur that was his - his partner, his person, his  _ everything  _ \- was there before he could have tried.

Bunny’s sprint sent them tumbling, head over heels over head, but Jack couldn’t have cared less. It was  _ Bunny, _ warm and overjoyed and back in his arms, back where he belonged, soft fur between Jack’s fingers and face buried in Jack’s neck.

They landed, by chance, with Jack sprawled awkwardly over Bunny’s upper half, and Jack shimmied down to at least be face to face with him. Bunny was doing the adorable teeth-grinding thing that sounded an awful lot like purring and never failed to make Jack’s chest tight, and he kissed Bunny’s nose with a smile so wide it hurt.

‘Missed me, Bun-bun?’ he asked.

‘Missed ye?’ Bunny replied, and his voice was hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in days. Weeks. ‘Me love,  _ missed ye _ doesn’t cover it.’

‘You knew I’d be gone,’ Jack argued, but he felt his face going red, and that meant he’d already lost.

‘That’s never made it easy,’ Bunny replied, and tilted his head up, kissing Jack’s cheek.

It wasn’t so much that Bunny was clingy - he’d never demand Jack stay with him if he had other places he needed or wanted to be, and didn’t follow him around like a lost puppy. It was just that Bunny liked knowing Jack was there. Jack knew it stemmed from whatever had happened to bring Bunny here. He knew just enough to know Bunny had lost, if not everyone, then most everyone he’d ever known. So it really wasn’t a surprise to find that Bunny wanted him nearby whenever he could have him there.

Maybe to someone else, it would have felt clingy, actually. And Jack knew Bunny kept expecting it to feel like that to Jack.

But three hundred years of practically being alone? Up until ‘68, with Bunny as his only positive interactions with others, as little as it was? And now with people who wanted him there,  _ someone who wanted him around all the time? _

Jack couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be, ever. He didn’t mind his job (he freaking  _ loved _ his job), he liked visiting friends; but at the end of the day, where he’d prefer to be was with Bunny. Ultimately, it was humbling that Bunny felt the same way.

Jack turned his head and met Bunny’s mouth with his own, the contact sparking from his lips and to the back of his neck, down his spine and into his fingertips. He’d missed this, this easy exchange of affection, the way Bunny’s flat lips pursed up and the nudge of his flat, wide nose against Jack’s. The way he’d lift his paws and inevitably cradle the back of Jack’s head, holding on like he was worried Jack was about to disappear.

His other paw clutched at the fabric of Jack’s sweatshirt, bunching it up between his fingers, and Jack wormed nearer, digging his own fingers into the soft underlayer of Bunny’s fur, kissing harder.

He parted his legs to straddle Bunny’s middle, to give himself more leverage, to apply more pressure; Bunny’s mouth opened under his and teeth caught his bottom lip, tugging gently, insistently. Jack made a noise, a little moan, and Bunny tongued the spot he’d nipped before sliding it inside fully. It took Jack a dizzy second to realise what he was doing, but when he did, the moan that left him wasn’t nearly so small as the one that had come before.

How else was he supposed to respond to Bunny  _ literally tonguefucking his mouth,  _ honestly?

Bunny grinned into the kiss, smug that Jack had caught on, and made to flip them, but Jack braced his arms and pinned Bunny beneath them.

He broke the kiss with a gasp, and spent a moment just breathing, sharing Bunny’s air. ‘Nuh uh,’ Jack said, when Bunny tried again. ‘I have plans for you, Mr. Bunnymund, and they involve you on your back, thank you very much.’

He hadn’t meant it the way it had sounded, precisely; but with no little surprise, he watched Bunny’s eyes dilate, heard his breath quicken, felt him shift beneath him.

‘Oh?’ Bunny asked, and his voice was hoarse still, and Jack had always had a thing for Bunny’s voice anyway. Which gave him the first good idea he’d had since the start of this whole mess, a way to test if what he was seeing was what he thought it was.

‘Mmhmm,’ Jack hummed, and smiled with an edge. ‘You wanna know what it is?’

‘Are ye going to talk at me or are ye going to move?’

‘Who says I can’t do both?’ Jack asked with an arched eyebrow, then kissed Bunny silent when he opened his mouth to protest.

From there, it was a path he’d grown long familiar with, one Bunny knew well, too, if the way his breath caught meant anything. First a gentle line of kisses down his throat, softened by the fur between Jack’s lips and Bunny’s skin. Then Jack nosed aside the long fur of his ruff, unearthing a collarbone, and bit, still gentle, but enough to make his point.

Bunny was already rocking his hips up, little jerks, not enough to get him any friction but enough to make his desires known. Jack smiled into the soft underlayer of Bunny’s fur, and bit a little harder, just to hear Bunny’s ragged intake of breath.

From there a little lower down, parting Bunny’s fur with his lips (something Jack had mastered somewhere in the third month of of their relationship, and a skill he was still pretty proud of), and tracing a spiral towards the peak of one of Bunny’s nipples with his tongue. This was something that always broke Bunny down a little, mostly because they were hard to find if you didn’t know where to look; worse, they were hellishly sensitive, which Jack had tried time and again to take advantage of. It was just a shame, he thought as Bunny arched his back into it and groaned, that Jack was just oversensitive all over, and Bunny’s fur was really, really distracting.

For once, though, Jack was still dressed, and so he had a layer to rely on as a barrier. He nipped his way down the invisible line of Bunny’s stomach muscles, to the notch of his hips, and  _ damn _ but Aster was ready to go, fully hard and actually standing away from his body, glistening from the wetness of his sheath.

Jack nosed at the crease of his groin, mainly to gain his composure as his own dick made it known how much it really,  _ really liked that fact. _

Jack was pretty sure he’d found the fatal flaw in his initial plan to find some distance, to cool off. It’d been the longest he’d been away from Bunny since they’d started this, and apparently, absence made the dick grow fonder. Heart. Whatever, right now Jack could feel his pulse throbbing between his legs so he was pretty sure they were the same thing just at the moment.

‘Jack,’ Bunny said, the vowel drawn out, the accent thicker and helpless, his hips rocking up futilely against the air.

Jack supposed he’d kept Bunny waiting long enough, and shifted so he was kneeling at a comfortable angle between Aster’s bent and parted legs. His weariness was gone for the moment; he planned to take advantage of that.

‘Aster,’ Jack breathed over Bunny’s cock, palmed it as Bunny thrust up again, and then descended.

Jack had found, to his own surprise, that he really, really liked sucking Bunny off fairly early on. There was something about the way Bunny loosened up, curled around him, held on gently but immovably, that burned in Jack’s gut. The taste was startlingly  _ nice,  _ considering what it was Jack was sticking into his mouth, salt-sweet and heated; the size was wonderful, thick enough to force his jaw wide but not enough to make it grow sore too quickly; and so help him, the way Bunny  _ reacted _ to it was enough to have made it enjoyable even if he hadn’t liked any other part of it.

‘Jack,’ Bunny groaned, the word at least three times as long as it was at any other time, and his hips rolled up, never more than Jack could handle. Jack rode with the movement, head bobbing in counterpoint, tongue pressed to the shaft as he went up and just the right touch of suction on the way down.

He was apparently pretty good at it, according to Bunny, and Jack would inevitably waggle his eyebrows and say ‘Lots of practice,’ and Bunny would respond with a smirk of his own and a low, rumbled ‘Nah, s’all natural talent, me love.’ Jack knew this for sure; they’d had the exchange a few times, now.

The familiarity of this was almost as good as coming home in the first place, and though it took effort, Jack kept his hand away from himself. That was usually his undoing; his hand seemed to have a mind of its own, and it was a one-track mind, for sure. Without fail, he would find himself thrusting into his own grip when Bunny’s noises became too much to bear, but this time -  _ this time - _ Jack had a better prize in mind.

He thumbed over the base of Bunny’s cock, gathering up saliva and the slick wetness that always beaded there when Bunny really got going, and trailed it over his balls. They tightened under the touch and Bunny choked, hips stuttering, and it was another herculean effort that kept Jack from grinning around his mouthful and possibly baring his teeth to Bunny’s sensitive skin.

Then, feeling the shiver of nerves, of anticipation, he slid it lower, along the smooth space between Bunny’s balls and his ass, then when he’d reached his target, pressed just the tiniest bit in.

Bunny  _ shouted _ with it, thrusting up harder than he usually did, cock bumping into the back of Jack’s throat - normally enough to choke Jack, but his throat for once did  _ something _ and let it slide past, and he was swallowing around the length and - and -

He saw honest to god stars, bursts of white against the inside of his eyelids, and with Bunny’s cry echoing in his chest he came, blinded, winded, stunned and lost to it.

A few seconds later, Bunny shuddered all over, and Jack would have thought it was a good thing that it was instinct by this point to swallow, if he’d had a brain to think it with at the time.

He let Bunny’s softening, retracting cock slide out of his mouth with an obscenely wet sound, and sat up to find Bunny’s green gaze trained on him, a wry smile on his lips even though he still looked a bit dazed.

‘If ye think I haven’t noticed what ye’ve been getting at,’ he said, voice the wrecked rumble it only became after a truly spectacular bout, ‘ye’re mad, me love.’

The nerves returned all at once, and Jack swallowed; the salt sweet taste was still on his tongue as he managed a soft, ‘Yeah?’

‘I have,’ Bunny confirmed. His gaze turned a bit - sheepish. ‘It’s not that I - er, object, per se. I’ve just never…’

He trailed off, leaving Jack feeling like he’d been clobbered over the head.

‘You’ve never been -’ Jack began, but faltered, because oh, wow, he kind of felt like a jerk now. He should have just said something, instead of being obtuse - no wonder Bunny had never tried to -

‘Oi, get that look off yer face, I know when ye’re doing the self-blame thingo. Cut it out.’

Bunny levered himself up, and gathered Jack in his arms, dragging him in, one paw skimming down to cup him. Bunny’s smug look when he found Jack soft made Jack smack his shoulder, but it had exactly none of the force it usually would.

‘Ye’ve not done anything wrong,’ Bunny said firmly, and kissed Jack’s mouth, tongue sliding out to taste himself there, and if Jack could have he’d have been ready to go again, just from that.

‘So - is that a thing we can do?’ Jack asked, and he stripped out all of his own desire from the question, leaving it almost polite. Conversational. If Bunny had never - well, it wasn’t like Jack had ever bottomed before Bunny, either, but since he’d been pretty freaking enthused to get on Bunny’s dick at the time, it was different. Bunny seemed almost - shy about it. Which was sweet as hell and kind of made Jack want to melt into more goop than he currently was, impossible though it would have been.

Bunny was quiet a moment, nuzzling along Jack’s shoulder with his chin, letting Jack tuck his face into the warm crook of his neck.

‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘Not just yet, mind, since I’m just about knackered enough to drop, but soon.’

Jack released a tension he hadn’t even realised he was holding, and kissed Bunny’s neck. ‘Okay,’ he said, trusting Bunny’s hearing to catch the words, even muffled as they were in his fur. ‘But you change your mind, you let me know. It’s not like I’m not happy to be fucked into the bed.’

‘Or the ground,’ Bunny replied dryly into Jack’s hair. ‘Or the wall. Or the kitchen benchtop, or the -’

‘Oh, shut it,’ Jack slurred, smiling, and fell asleep like that, Bunny warm beneath him.

  
  


**5**

 

‘Hey, just like that, Aster,’ Jack murmured, pressing a kiss to Bunny’s parted thigh.

He honestly hadn’t intended to end up where they were this soon, less than twenty four hours after they’d first discussed it. Of course, they’d literally traded handjobs within ten minutes of confessing their feelings, so he really shouldn’t be surprised. But he’d woken up this morning with Bunny looming over him, eyes dark and breath already shallow, and since that was about twenty minutes ago and they were already here, Jack should have expected it.

Bunny’s expression wasn’t bad, but maybe uncomfortable, as Jack’s finger entered him, slicked with oil and definitely not trembling in the slightest. It was tight, painfully so, and Jack kissed his thigh again, the space between thigh and cock, his cock itself. ‘Relax, remember? That’s what you told me.’

‘Aye,’ Bunny breathed, and it was a second later that he started to do so, that it became easier for Jack to slide in and out.

‘Awesome,’ Jack said, voice more than a little awed, and Bunny snorted at that; Jack couldn’t find it within himself to care, speeding up a little. Bunny’s breathing went uneven, and Jack grinned into his fur when he felt Bunny rock onto it, just a bit. Probably not enough for him to even realise that was what he was doing.

A little deeper now, a little faster, thumb rubbing soothing circles outside as Jack worked him open; Bunny’s head was tilted back, so Jack couldn’t see his expression, but the rocking was more obvious now, Bunny  _ actively _ trying to get more. Jack’s dick throbbed at the thought, and he moaned a little into Bunny’s thigh.

Soon, he was just deep enough to start getting interesting, if Bunny was anything like him, and if Bunny had been moving before, he was almost writhing now, cock hard, voice rumbling wordlessly. Jack had never seen him so - undone, not until they were way further along in the proceedings, not from so little.

Then, almost entirely by accident, Jack found the spot he was looking for, and rubbed up.

Bunny moaned so low it was almost soundless, and Jack watched in stunned surprise as his cock convulsed and spilled over the fur of his stomach.

Jack stared up at Bunny as his chest heaved, and Bunny rolled his head down, his expression just as surprised as Jack felt.

Then Jack felt a smile split his face, and Bunny groaned - not a sexy groan, but an annoyed one.

‘You really like this, don’t you.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Rack off.’

‘Oh, no way, nuh uh, not a  _ chance,’ _ Jack sang, and moved his  _ (single!)  _ finger again.

Bunny jerked and keened, throwing an arm over his eyes. Jack could see his cock twitch.

‘Oh my  _ god.’ _

‘Jack, so help me, unless ye’re going to put any more in,’ Bunny said, voice a dark threat, ‘I’m going to have to do it meself, and I thought ye had plans.’

Jack’s throat dried out at the image, and he nodded, even though Bunny couldn’t see it.

The second finger went over spectacularly, Bunny fucking down on it as enthusiastically as he had in Jack’s wildest dreams, and Jack couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, Bunny lost to this in a way Jack really hadn’t dared to imagine. The third finger had Bunny wild (Jack was thicker than Aster was, and figured it couldn’t hurt.)

‘Jack,’ Bunny demanded, paws clutching at the bed like he needed it to be anchored, cock hard and pink again and lying on his stomach, ‘Jack,  _ now,  _ damn ye,  _ now  _ -’

Jack swallowed and nodded, withdrawing his fingers and and leaving Bunny moaning with loss. Jack knew the feeling, and barely managed to slick himself up properly, the desperation in Bunny calling to the desperation in himself. He lined himself up, began to slide in, and…

He’d known it would feel good. Of course he had. But he hadn’t counted on the additional pleasure from knowing he was the only person who had done this, knowing that it was  _ him _ Bunny was trying to get more of like his life depended on it, a glorious knowing that really only made the wet heat, tighter and hotter than anything Jack had ever felt around himself, that much better.

‘Aster,’ he murmured, and didn’t recognise his own voice.

Bunny’s response was a  _ whine,  _ a high-pitched keening, and as Jack withdrew, he snapped his hips up to meet the return thrust.

Jack couldn’t resist that invitation, and so snagged Bunny’s hips in his hands, and  _ went for it. _

He’d never heard some of these noises out of Bunny’s throat, and he looked forward to hearing them again, and again, and again and again and  _ again,  _ each shaky slam of his hips into Bunny’s dragging more out.

He wasn’t going to last, he could feel the orgasm rippling toward him like a shark through water, and he opened his mouth to tell Bunny so.

He never got a chance to say a word, much less follow through with the half-formed plan to finish Bunny off with his hand.

Bunny reached up to him, knocking Jack’s hand’s from his hips, and grabbed Jack’s waist, keeping him from withdrawing. A quick swivel of his body, a grind down against Jack’s cock inside him, and with a softly hoarse cry he came over himself again.

That Jack lasted for a whole other thrust into his slumped body was a miracle, and Jack would maintain that until his (second?) dying day.

They stayed like that, panting, Jack holding himself up with shaking arms braced against the bed. He withdrew at last, Bunny making a soft noise of over-stimulated pleasure that Jack had only heard in his own voice before, and he flopped down on Bunny’s chest.

Bunny’s paws came up and stroked along his spine, and they lay in silence for a while.

‘Oh my god,’ Jack finally said, ‘I finally beat you,’ and Bunny’s laughter was high-pitched and stupid, and Jack had never been so delighted with the sound.

  
  


  1. exitlude



 

Jack officially had whatever the opposite of a problem was. A solution, except, like, a constant solution? A persistent one? Whatever, it was here and it was freaking amazing, and he was going to keep being obnoxiously pleased with it.

He knew it was obnoxious because Bunny told him so, but he didn’t care, mostly because Bunny said that right after he’d pinned him somewhere and started to undo Jack’s pants, so really that just made Bunny’s point moot.

It was kind of like the first three weeks of their relationship, except packed into the entirety of a single week. It was fantastic. They didn’t leave the Warren once, and didn’t get more than five minutes away from their den, either; Jack had no idea how many times they had sex, but it was kind of pointless to wonder, since they’d all kind of bled into one another with brief breaks for necessary things like food and sleep.

And holy  _ crap _ was there variety. With more options, it was actually kind of mindboggling, the number of things they did. Jack was just proud he kept up.

It went back to something akin to normal after that, mostly because Easter was coming on and the work of winter couldn’t be put off, not even for really, really good sex.

But that was okay, because Jack knew now that the ‘welcome home’ sex was even better, and actually, just. Everything. Everything was better.

‘Ye’re glowing again,’ Bunny said, sounding amused as he bit at Jack’s collarbone, hips rising up and sinking down, Jack’s body pinned beneath him. The amusement was shot through with desperation though, and Jack dug his faintly-shining fingers into the fur of Bunny’s hips as he rolled up to meet him, sinking deeper into his springtime heat. He could see the pale blue cast limning Bunny’s fur.

‘Yeah, kinda happens when I’m ecstatic,’ Jack replied matter-of-factly, and Bunny was still laughing when he rode himself to completion on Jack’s dick, shuddering around him as Jack’s blue light blazed up in time with the orgasm.

So they finished at the same time more often than not, Jack thought in the stupid-after-sex-haze. And Bunny still beat him most of the time. That was fine.

Winter, as a general rule, does come before spring, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Description:
> 
> In which Bunny is a nervous first-time bottom who realises bottoming is the _best thing ever_ and Jack is a first-time top who finally gets to come in last


End file.
